Coma
by Magpiebee
Summary: After being hit by a car, Ohtori becomes lost in a coma. When his team finds out, mainly his best friend Shishido, how will this effect the Hyotei regulars? Slight Silver Pair.
1. His Cap

A/N: This fic is based off of an amazing game called Coma. I recommend you all look it up. :) Please enjoy and review; include any suggestions, comments, or constructive criticism! There will be a second chapter, maybe more if anybody wants more. Enjoy!

The tenacious blackness that surrounded Ohtori slowly revealed light into his environment. Not in the least bit feeling confused, Ohtori looked around. The sky was blanketed in gray clouds, a deeper gray as you trailed your eyes up, and lighter as they met with the horizon. He was standing in a tennis court, but something seemed off. All around him, things seemed to be tinted gray, plain, colorless. Not even the court seemed completely green as he remembered it. Ohtori made a 360, then looked to the ground. Messily, paint was splattered onto it in what could only be made out as words.

_Open the door._

"The door…" He whispered softly. Immediately he looked to his right, and the world in front of him seemed to cave in. Everything in his line of sight led to the boy's locker room. At the same time, the path leading to the room collapsed, like pixels being eaten away. Ohtori looked down into the abyss that now lay before him, staring into its forever darkness. Why didn't he feel afraid? He could easily have just fallen in, never to be seen again. Yet his leg rose, and his foot came closer to the chasm pathway. "I want to go there. I need to go there." And he stepped down.

Not to his surprise, nor to his interest, he did not fall. In fact, he seemed to float atop an invisible glass path. Slowly he walked to the locker room door. Letters were scratched onto it, most likely using a knife.

_Your _

_ world_

_is_

_ a_

_lie._

Ohtori opened the door without hesitation.

Inside was what he knew as his tennis team's locker room. It was small and had many metallic lockers etched onto the walls. A single bench bordered next to the door, to Ohtori's right. Ohtori examined the room closely. Why did he feel as if he expected someone to be there? Nostalgia crept into his brain as his eyes moved on their own, stopping at a familiar blue baseball cap; It was turned over.

Ohtori's legs moved down to the floor and he crawled to a stop in front of the cap. Inside it, a little note was waiting. He read it in silence.

_I've been waiting for you. Everyday. I miss you. Come back to me._

_Please._

_ Wake_

_ Up._


	2. Unwanted Discovery

The news had struck him like lightning. Fast, fierce; but the damage was done. At first je didn't believe it; Shishido thought at first that his team was simply playing some sick, twisted joke on him. But when Atobe repeated those dreaded words, Shishido knew he was serious.

"Otori is in a coma, Shishido. He was struck by a drunk driver on his walk home from school." Atobe had said, his usual all-mighty aura, even over the phone, gone. This was one of the most serious sentences Shishido had ever heard his captain say.

Almost instantly after Atobe had responded to the question of 'Where?' with the name of a hospital, Shishido abandoned his phone and sprinted out his front door.

The hospital was abuzz with commotion. Shishido learned that with Otori being hit, the drink driver and one other pedestrian were in critical condition. However, Shishido didn't care. Not that he was a bad person, but because there was someone more important waiting for him behind a hospital door. He ran in the direction that the startled nurse had offered him until he found familiar Hyotei regulars standing outside an open door, staring inside. The first people Shishido saw were Mukai and Oshitari. The naturally hyperactive red head seemed stunned like an animal looking into a bright light. Oshitari stood beside him, an arm partially around Mukai's shoulders, looking as though he was struggling to stay within his stoic and poised complexion. After a slight pause, Shishido pushed through the two, not at all prepared for what he might see, but only running on the desire to see his best friend.

And he really, really wasn't prepared.

Inside, Atobe and Kabaji stood in front of the hospital bed. The other regulars didn't seem to have arrived yet, as the four (now five) of them were the only ones there. Horrified, Shishido stared at the bed.

Short locks of silver hair rested atop pale skin. Usually flawless, Otori's skin was tainted by bruises and scratches. A large, black area covered most of the right side of Otori's face. His eyes were closed, and mouth open slightly. The bruises looked painful, yet Otori wore a silent, calm face. IV's led into his far arm, the opposite covered in bandages. Shishido stared helplessly, like a lost puppy, waiting for his partner's sweet, ever caring eyes to open, for him to look into Shishido's moistening eyes and say, "I'm ok. Everything's going to be alright."

Now the other members were looking at Shishido. They knew he and Otori were the closest, not just because they were doubles partners, but because their bond was strong and their friendship great. Atobe respectfully passed Shishido, summoning Kabaji as he did, and grabbed and lightly squeezed Shishido's shoulder. Shishido could only stare, frozen in a position of disbelief. Finally Atobe left the room and closed the door.

For a while Shishido just stood and stared and thought. A couple times he forced his muscles to contort, wanting to move closer. But this only seemed to glue him more to the spot he was in, a good 5 feet away from his friend.

Shishido thought back, looking for clues to a mystery that needed no solving. It was this afternoon that Otori was hit, the afternoon right after practice…

When Shishido didn't walk home with him. That afternoon, Shishido had to re-take a test he had flunked. Usually the pair would walk together directly after tennis practice. But no, Shishido remembered himself dashing off after changing, only giving a small wave and a "Sorry, see you tomorrow!" to Otori. Of course, Otori understood, and returned a good-bye as well.

How could this have happened? was the first question. The driver must have been an idiot or an incredibly bad drunk to hit suck a tall boy in clear light.

But Shishido wasn't there. He could have been there, pushed Otori out of the way. Or maybe they'd both be in a coma, or maybe just injured. If only he hadn't flunked that test— he remembered Otori offering to help him study. But, being prideful, Shishido had declined, forgetting the other homework he had that night.

It was his fault. He hadn't been there. Otori is hurt, in a coma, and it's all his fault.

When finally his body would listen to him, Shishido approached the bed. He slowly got down on his knees, putting his arms on the bed. His hand, shaking, made its way to Otori's good cheek; he touched in gently. All at once tears began to rain down, and as they did, Shishido removed his favorite bareball cap, placing it on Otori's chest. He laid his face and arms on the bed and allowed himself to sob until visiting hours were over.

"I'm sorry, Choutarou… I'm so sorry…"


End file.
